


Kiss Me Forever

by sourcherryscones



Category: Killing Eve (TV 2018)
Genre: Bridge Scene, Canon Compliant, F/F, Post-Season/Series 03, Villaneve, villaneve kiss
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-03
Updated: 2020-07-14
Packaged: 2021-03-04 07:15:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 4,330
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24519817
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sourcherryscones/pseuds/sourcherryscones
Summary: What happens after they turn around?Post season 3 fic. I just really needed more after that finale so I'm gonna write it myself. And I really wanted them to kiss...
Relationships: Eve Polastri/Villanelle | Oksana Astankova
Comments: 21
Kudos: 204





	1. Never leave me

Villanelle laughs, lightly, her eyes now fixed on Eve’s. She sighs, for a moment, and then starts to slowly walk forward. Eve seems to be frozen to the spot where she turned around, but Villanelle just keeps walking towards her as Eve stares. Just as Villanelle is a metre away, Eve takes a step forward. Villanelle feels the weight of Eve’s hand on her upper arm, pulling her in that final step. They’re so close now that Villanelle can feel Eve’s breath on her face, feel it cutting through the cold air, fluttering over her already warming cheeks. 

“I can’t,” Eve sighs. “I can’t walk away.”

Villanelle chuckles softly and looks down, then back up at Eve. She takes a breath, and then, “Me neither, Eve.”

“I can’t see my future without you.”

“I know,” Villanelle pauses, resting her hand on Eve’s hip. “So, what are we going to do?”

“I have no idea,” Eve shakes her head, tilting it slightly as when she re-joins her gaze with Villanelle’s.

“Well, the offer’s still on the table for Alaska…”

“You’re not going to shoot me this time if I refuse that offer, are you?” Eve quips, and Villanelle chuckles.

“No,” Villanelle, gazes downwards again. Villanelle is ever conscious of Eve’s hand on her arm, like she can almost feel it through her yellow coat. If only she were wearing something sleeveless, then she’d savour the feeling of Eve’s skin against her own… “But, hey, there was something that you gave me a while ago, and I’ve been meaning to return it.”

“Really,” Eve starts, confused. “I don’t remember –“   
She’s cut off by Villanelle’s hand cupping her cheekbone, her cold lips crashing against her own. Eve’s eyes stay open for a second, but then, as Villanelle’s lips linger, her eyes close, and Eve kisses her back. The kiss is warm and cold at the same time, as their bodies move closer, Eve moving her hand from Villanelle’s arm to her back, bringing the two closer. The noise of the street seems to get quieter, the busy London air dimming for a moment as Eve’s thoughts are consumed by Villanelle. Villanelle. Villanelle.

Villanelle pulls back, softly, and Eve just stands there with her eyes closed for a moment, breathing the cold surrounding air deep into her lungs, Villanelle’s hand still cupping her cheek. 

“Thank you,” Eve says, after a minute, opening her eyes. 

Villanelle does that little laugh again. “Why are you thanking me, Eve?”

“I don’t know, I’m just- I’m,” Eve blusters, and then sighs, pulling her free hand through her curls. She stops for a moment, Villanelle looking at her, expectant, and then gives in, being the one to pull Villanelle in this time, her mouth warmer after the last kiss. It’s soft and messy and romantic, going on for what feels like an hour and a second at the same time. 

“Well I’m glad to know I’m irresistible?” Villanelle whispers as their lips part, their foreheads still touching, and their hands on each other’s cheeks and shoulders, like they are leaning against one another for support. 

“Oh shut up,” Eve laughs, and it tickles Villanelle’s face.

“We should probably get off this bridge though, right?” Villanelle asks.

“Yeah,” Eve breathes out. “Yeah we probably should.” She leans back, pausing for a moment, glancing down at Villanelle’s slender fingers before reaching down and clasping them in her own. Villanelle just looks down at their hands and smiles. “I guess I’ll lead, this time?” Eve says, guiding Villanelle down the footpath, heart racing.   
Eve doesn’t know where she’s going, she just walks, her mind going over and over the recent events. Villanelle, Villanelle, Villanelle. 

“Wait, Eve” Villanelle utters after they’ve walked for a while, still holding on to Eve’s hand tightly. “Let’s go in here.” Eve glances up at the brightly lit white sign above the shop.

“Fish n chips?”

“What? I love fish n chips,” Villanelle smirks, and Eve just furrows her brows. “Oh come on, I’m not allowed to like fish n chips?” 

“No,” Eve swallows, “it’s just surprising. Good surprising, though.”

“Well, if you’re this amazed by fish n chips, it won’t be hard to keep our time together exciting.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Eve asks, and Villanelle just winks. It makes Eve’s heart beat even faster.


	2. Not a shame

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Carolyn after we left her last.

Carolyn walks over to the kitchen. It is a nice place, she thinks, as she pours herself a glass of water. A shame it was inhabited by a deceitful asshole.  
She sits down at the kitchen table as she waits for the team to arrive to deal with Paul’s unfortunate ‘suicide’. She sits quite still as she waits, looking at Paul’s body, slumped there on the couch, blood continuing to dribble out of him. That wasn’t a shame. She can hear the clock ticking as she sits there, still, silent. Hopefully, the team should be here soon to clean up. She’d rather get the questions over with and just get home to enjoy some time to herself. Hopefully, Geraldine will be gone by the time she gets there.

Carolyn sighs as she sits there, crossing one leg over another as she glances up at the clock. They should be here any minute now. She sits there watching Paul’s body, watching the red liquid slowly trickle out, until she hears the click of the door and hears the clack of footsteps on the wooden floorboards.

“Ah,” she gets up, smiling. “Hugh.”

“Carolyn,” a tall bearded man nods as he walks in, followed by a younger woman in glasses. “So, tell me what you know.”

“Well, I’m sure you are aware by now that Paul happened to be working for The Twelve…” Carolyn presses her lips together, and Hugh raises an eyebrow. 

“Well, I am now.”

“Anyway,” Carolyn continues. “He knew I was onto him, and, you see I’d never been too fond of the man. I suppose the pressure got to him tonight,” she states bluntly.

“I see.”

“So yes, I’d just come to have a little chat with him, but, unfortunately, I walked into this scene,” she sighs, and Hugh nods, making a note of this. “I trust that will be enough from me?” Carolyn asks, and Hugh nods again, putting out a hand now.

“Yes, thank you, Carolyn. I’ll see you.” 

Carolyn takes his hand. “Goodbye.” She adjusts her coat and wraps her scarf around her neck as she makes her way to the door. Well, that was easy enough. 

Carolyn throws her coat over the rack as she enters her house, kicking her shoes off too before she heads up the stairs. She pauses for a minute as she reaches the stairwell. No sound in the house. Good.  
She sighs as she walks into the bathroom, reaching down to turn the hot knob on in the bath, squirting a bit of a nice cedar and bergamot wash into the tub before she walks back down to pick out a nice bottle of wine. Carolyn pulls a bottle out of the rack, turning it in her hands to look at the label. A 30 year vintage of a rather nice Cabernet from Tuscany. Yes, she thinks. That will do. She pours a glass, walking up the stairs once more as she takes a sip, bringing the bottle with her. The bath is starting to fill and get steamy at this point, so she places the glass on the windowsill as she puts on some Mahler to listen to, and then undresses.  
Carolyn turns off the tap as she steps into the bath, sighing as she puts the second foot in and sinks her body down into the hot water. She takes a sip of her Cabernet before leaning her head back, closing her eyes and breathing in the steamy air, listening to the sound of Mahler’s harmonies fill the room. Carolyn lets her mind wander to Konstantin. She wanted to believe that he didn’t do it, that he didn’t push Kenny, but she can’t. She purses her lips in frustration as she thinks. But she just couldn’t kill him either. She’s going to need more Cabernet, she thinks, as she sits up and finishes the glass.


	3. Fish, chips and a proposition

Villanelle plops herself down in one of the plastic chairs, putting her elbow on the white tabletop and leaning her chin into her hand, the corner of her mouth rising up into a lopsided smile as Eve sits down across from her, a parcel of hot, fatty food wrapped in newspaper in her hands. Eve unwraps the newspaper and Villanelle grabs the bottle of vinegar on the table and starts to drizzle it vigorously over the chips. 

“Woah,” Eve says, raising her eyebrows. “You don’t hold back on the vinegar.” Villanelle just grins back, putting the bottle of vinegar down and popping a chip into her mouth. Eve grabs a piece of the fish, taking a bite, and groaning “mmm.” 

They sit there in comfortable silence for a while, munching away at their greasy food, Eve occasionally feeling the bump of Villanelle’s knees or feet hitting hers under the table. At some point Villanelle lets her free hand wander under the table, finding Eve’s knee and resting there. She can’t help but feel warm in this moment – from the food, the hot oily air, the heat of Eve’s skin beneath her trousers, the fact that Eve couldn’t bring herself to leave her. Villanelle has no idea what is going to happen in her future, no idea what’s going to happen to Konstantin and how that is going to affect her, no idea what’s going to happen with the Twelve, but she doesn’t let that bother her in this moment. She just takes in the warmth. 

Eve lets her hand wander under the table too, once she’s finished her food, lifting Villanelle’s fingers from her knee and gently entwining them in her hand instead.   
“What are we going to do, though…” Eve asks, catching focussing her gaze on Villanelle’s, a questioning look in her eyes.  
Villanelle pauses for a moment, before answering. “Well, I do have a hotel room, if that is what you are wondering.” She widens her eyes and lets her curl upwards again. Eve looks a bit startled. She had been stroking the back of Villanelle’s hand with her fingers absentmindedly, but suddenly she stops, looking at the wall, motionless for a minute, before her eyes dart back to Villanelle’s. 

“Yeah,” Eve replies, visibly biting her lip a little, her eyes still on Villanelle’s but looking less sure now, like she is still considering what she was going to say. “Let’s – let’s go there.”

Villanelle’s stomach drops as she hears Eve say this. It's not like she hasn’t had Eve on her bed before, hasn’t kissed her or touched her before, but she has a feeling this time it's going to be different. This time there won’t be any stabbing (she hopes at least). And suddenly she’s nervous. Villanelle, who usually seems so sure of what she is doing, so confident. She’s had plenty of people back to her room with her before, but this is different. It’s Eve. It’s the woman she’s imagined this happening with in a thousand different ways, but she’s not really sure what she should. The last thing Villanelle wants is to scare Eve away, to do something wrong. So Villanelle lets go of Eve’s hand under the table and stands up, adjusting her coat as she breathes slowly. Her mind has been completely cleared of thoughts about anything other than what is going to happen between her and Eve in the immediate future. She grabs Eve’s hand again as she comes around to her side of the table, ready to walk out into the street again. Villanelle holds tight, her thoughts racing through the options. Maybe Eve doesn’t even want to do anything physical, maybe she just wants to rest. But even Eve just wants to sleep in the same bed, Villanelle wants it to be perfect for her. She doesn’t want Eve to regret turning around. If there’s anything Villanelle doesn’t want to mess up, it’s this.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry these chapters are so short lol. Hopefully you're enjoying this anyway :) Let me know your thoughts.


	4. Shouldn't be surprised

Konstantin had walked away very quickly once he got out the door that night, his heart that had been so close to stopping just some nights before suddenly beating very quickly. 

It’s bullshit, he thinks now, as he sits at the airport bar. What they say about your life flashing before your eyes. He had felt so close to death, so panicked as Carolyn held the gun against his head. He had felt so close to death, but he didn’t see images of his life flashing across his mind, instead he just felt panicked and pleading. I don’t want to die, he’d thought, after he’d yelled, begged for Villanelle to do something, and she just sat there, watching as he was about to have a bullet blasted through his brain. He didn’t have some out of body experience of all the joys of life, his mind had just been filled with the noise of panic, desperately trying to think of what to do, and silently pleading, over and over, faster and faster, not to be killed. 

He shouldn’t have been surprised, really, he thought now, as he took a sip of whisky. He shouldn’t have been surprised that Villanelle didn’t do anything to save him. She had tried to kill him once. Konstantin knew that Villanelle had killed her own family, too. Even if it seemed liked she was getting softer, as if she wasn’t a psychopath after all, he shouldn’t have expected her to save him. 

He was going to leave without her, too. That’s what he is doing now. Waiting to board a plane to get away from it all. Away from the Twelve, away from MI6, away from Russia and England and Europe in general and all the drama that follows him around that continent, all the webs he has himself tangled up in, unable to escape. But he is escaping now. No one will bother him in Cuba, he hopes. 

Konstantin thought back to that night when the gun was against his head. The way Carolyn had shifted it in a split second and got the perfect shot through Paul’s head, Konstantin knew she could have killed anyone in that room with a moment’s decision. Villanelle must have known too. 

With the way she abandoned their escape plans, Konstantin also knows that Villanelle must have some other plan in the works in England. He knows that she isn’t comfortable working for the Twelve, that she wants to get away from them too. So, she must have been cosying up to Carolyn (well, to the extent that anyone can ‘cosy up’ to Carolyn). And that just adds to the reasons why he shouldn’t have been surprised that she just sat there, watching, not doing anything. She respected Carolyn (most people did) and she couldn’t go against her. But with Konstantin, whatever they had, whatever that bond was between them, something was changing. Villanelle has Eve, now, doesn’t she? He doesn't quite know what that relationship is, but he knows that Eve has become more important than anything, or anyone, to her. She doesn’t need Konstantin anymore.

So Konstantin sits there, alone, at the airport bar and takes another sip of his drink. He hadn’t gone back for Irina. He couldn’t go back for her. They wouldn’t release her, and he didn’t want to go anywhere near Russia at that point anyway. He was beginning to gain empathy for the way Villanelle distanced herself from the place.   
When Carolyn had turned the gun on Paul, after Konstantin’s pleading for his life had somehow done something, when Carolyn told him to get out before she changed her mind, he grabbed the package, and when Villanelle turned him down, he walked out that door. He got out.

Konstantin thinks, as he sits there, that he should really be worried now. Worried that someone from the Twelve will find out where he is, what he’s doing, what he’s done. But really he just feels lonely. The three people in the world he really cares about are nowhere near him, and won’t be anytime soon. His actual daughter might really be a psychopath, and he worries that he may have something to do with it. His psychopath daughter got in touch with her emotions and decided that after all these years of their strange, familiar relationship, that he’s not really family. And the woman he was once close with clearly thought him to be some sort of psychopath that would wilfully kill a member of her family. And maybe he is. Maybe he is the man that all these relationships, or rather relationship breakdowns, seem to suggest. But no matter how these people see him, no matter who they really are, he loves them. And at this moment, sitting there alone, he is feeling not worried, but rather lonely.


	5. Make yourself at home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ooo it's hotel room time.

Villanelle leads the way into the hotel room, opening the dark green door with one hand as she holds one of Eve’s with the other. She takes a deep breath, surveying the room, worried what Eve will think of it. The room is tidy - Villanelle usually is. Really, she knows, Eve wouldn’t mind if it were messy anyway, but she just wants to make a good impression now, even though Eve has already seen almost every part of her, like every detail matters more now that Eve turned around.

Villanelle gestures around at the room, now, saying, “Welcome to my humble abode,” with a little smile.

“Humble?” Eve questions tilting her head a little to the side as she raises an eyebrow, and Villanelle lets out a small laugh.

“Okay, welcome to my abode, then.”

The room is extravagant, Eve thinks. She had known it would be as they walked into the hotel, welcomed by a doorman as they entered through the rose gold cased doors into a spacious lobby.

There were thick, jade coloured curtains framing the windows in Villanelle’s room, tied out of the way with matching sashes, so that they could see the lights twinkling outside of the floor to ceiling windows. Outside the windows there Eve can see a small veranda, and her mind skips ahead to the next morning upon seeing this, imagining sitting on out there in the morning sun, eating breakfast with Villanelle, laughing about something, looking into her eyes… But Eve is getting ahead of herself. She shifts her view, her eyes now landing on the bed, clad in rose gold silk sheets and stacked high with cushions. Eve gulps, feeling the dryness of her mouth as she does.

“Make yourself at home,” Villanelle says, letting go of Eve’s hand to untie the bow of her yellow coat, placing it neatly on the wooden coat rack that stands next to a rather comfortable looking chair, and kicking off her boots.

“Thanks.” Eve shrugs her puffer jacket off her shoulders, hanging it next to Villanelle’s coat on the rack, and taking her shoes off.

Eve turns back to Villanelle, then, and Villanelle gently picks up her right hand, holding it with one hand and stroking it lightly with the other as she tells Eve, “I’ll be back in a minute.” She lets go of Eve’s hand and walks away, and Eve watches her as she disappears into the en suite, marvelling at how she somehow moves so gracefully, watching as her shoulder muscles move slightly under her perfectly fitted cotton shirt as she walks. When Villanelle closes the door to the en suite Eve takes the opportunity to really look around the room. She wanders to a tall shelf, built in a type of wood matching the coat rack. The shelf is adorned in books and a few small plants but leaving plenty of empty space. The books have clearly been put there by the hotel, the colours of the covers complementing the colour scheme in the rest of the room.

She moves to one of the bedside tables, then, picking up a book places slightly askew, the only thing apart from the coat and shoes she can see plainly that is clearly Villanelle’s. The book appears to be in French, so Eve has no idea really what it says, but from the cover – a drawing of two women holding each other’s faces in their hands – she would guess it was a romance. This strikes Eve as strange. In all her obsessing over Villanelle, she hadn’t imagined her reading romantic fiction. Villanelle was clever, so Eve had assumed she read, but she had imagined, well, anything other than romance really. It was surprising, finding that book there, but as Eve thinks about it more, it makes more sense. Villanelle had to do something in her free time, even when she was wrapped up in a difficult relationship with her employers and planning an escape.

The last time before Italy Eve had visited Villanelle at one of her rooms, a pair of women had slinked out as she was talking to Villanelle. So, Eve has slightly imagined that Villanelle was filling her free time with sex. But now, it is clear to her that she hasn’t been. Villanelle has obviously changed since she shot Eve in Rome. The moment on the bridge that night showed that. Villanelle didn’t see Eve as something to chase, something to capture, anymore. Eve knows Villanelle has strong feelings for Eve, not clouded by a need for possession. She has been nothing but gentle and loving with Eve that night, Eve can see that. Villanelle might really love me, Eve thinks, lying down diagonally across the bed. Her heart beats as she considers it, and considers what might happen that night. And it beats not out of frustration or anger or fear, but out of excitement, anticipation, the thought of becoming even closer with the woman she is otherwise so intimate with. And Eve thinks about what that means for her. That she is there, in one of Villanelle’s rooms again, but without a mission or a knife. That she is lying on the sheets that Villanelle sleeps on, waiting for her to come out from the en suite, she for the night to go on from there, in this hotel room. That she has got this point, accepted that her feelings for Villanelle won’t go away, that they’re not just some intellectual obsession, that they’re there, that they’re more than platonic, that they’re real and she’s going to act on them, without guilt because she knows this is what she wants. Eve has changed, too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this took a while to upload. I think I'll try to stick to a once a week type schedule. And sorry this is turning into a bit of a slow burn, but I just feel I shouldn't rush the sex you know, that there should be some thought and build up? Anyway, tell me what you think.


	6. Needs to be perfect

“I’ll be back in a minute,” Villanelle says, and then releases Eve’s hand from hers and walks into the bathroom.

The room is lavish, as Eve has suggested. The bathroom mirror is rimmed in rose gold and there are fashionable white ceramic subway-style tiles going up the walls. There is an orchid sitting in the corner, and on the large vanity, a sleek soap dispenser stands next to a bottle of perfume. Villanelle has more perfumes in her suitcase, the roman emperor one she wore and the bus among them, but today, tonight, she doesn’t want to smell that way. She wants to smell romantic, seductive. She picks up the bottle on the counter, running her thumb over the label. _L’eau D’issey_. It’s fresh, floral, sensual. Perfect. She takes off the cap, looking ahead at the mirror as she spritzes it on her neck and then her wrist, rubbing her wrists together, then raising one up towards her nose, taking in a breath of the scent. She closes her eyes as she smells it, pausing for a second before she breathes out. Her eyes flutter open again as she sighs, standing there for a second, just looking at herself. She brings her hand up to the bun in her hair then, carefully pulling out the hair tie, letting her hair come loose, fall onto her shoulders. She runs her hand through her hair then, messing it up a little then smoothing it out, positioning it around her shoulders to rest elegantly.

She wants to be perfect for Eve. She decides to wash her face, too, wetting a cloth with warm water before wiping it over her cheeks and forehead, drying her face afterwards with a fresh white towel. She stands there then, looking at her fresh face in the mirror, moving her eyes over her torso, thinking. She considers taking off her long-sleeved top, leaving just a tight bralette underneath, but decides against it. She wants to be seductive, romantic, but not _too_ forward. She runs her hands over her torso then, smoothing out the shirt, just breathing slowly preparing herself. She wants to be perfect for Eve. It doesn’t make Villanelle more confident that she’s had sex with so many women that she sometimes loses count, whereas Eve has seemingly had sex with none. Because most of those women, Villanelle hasn’t cared about. They’ve been one night stands, or women she’s just been with a few times. Apart from Anna, there hasn’t really been any feelings involved. But with Eve, she doesn’t just want to perform sexually. Villanelle wants it to be a romantic, sensual, and perfect experience with Eve. She wants to be able to show Eve how much she loves her – to kiss her tenderly with her lips, to run her hands down her body in a way that really shows how enchanted she is by Eve. This can’t just be like sex with any other person. It needs to be perfect, she keeps telling herself, even though she knows that is unachievable. It needs to be perfect.

Villanelle breaths in and out slowly one more time before opening the bathroom door. Eve is lying on the bed, her body making a soft dent in the silky sheets. “Hi,” Villanelle says. Eve shifts onto her side, looking up at Villanelle. “Hi.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lol sorry for the tiny update again.

**Author's Note:**

> To be continued...


End file.
